


Haunt me with your violent heartbeat

by redmorningstar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Canon Divergence - Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Canonical Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sad Ending, Talking To Dead People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmorningstar/pseuds/redmorningstar
Summary: There had been rumours that the spectres of his loved ones had haunted Dimitri while he lived; perhaps it is only fitting that his ghost should be by her side now.-After Dimitri dies on the Tailtean Plains, Byleth remains haunted by his ghost.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 24
Kudos: 55





	Haunt me with your violent heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "And You Kissed Me" by The Cardigans.

Byleth can’t hear what words they exchange over the sound of the rain. She sees Dimitri’s face twisted in anger and hate, Edelgard’s expression remote and distant, and she knows what happens next. Byleth doesn't let herself look away, even as his eyes lift to meet hers, so bright and blue and burning. She wishes she had kept a single pulse of the Goddess' power; she would give anything to reverse this moment. The axe falls.

Byleth doesn’t know how long she stands there, staring sightlessly at the ground as images of Dimitri’s death replay before her eyes. Hubert and Edelgard are talking nearby, but Byleth barely listens until her ears catch on Dimitri’s name said with pity and sorrow. Something about it rings strange to her, but she’s too lost to remember what conversation preceded it.

“For Dimitri?” She repeats, echoing Edelgard’s words.

“Yes. The thirst for revenge that imprisoned him was the result of my uncle's strategy,” Edelgard explains with quiet regret. “He believed that I was the cause of everything... and he lost sight of his path as king. There was nothing I could do to save him. And so, the very least I could do was—” She stops. Was there truly nothing that could have been done? Byleth doesn’t know if she believes that. Maybe if she had reached him first she could have spared him like she had done with Claude, like she had tried to do with the others; maybe things could have ended differently. _Maybe_.

“I hope you'll stay by my side until the very end,” Edelgard says at last and Byleth keeps silent, not trusting herself to speak. Edelgard does not seem to notice. She turns to Hubert, her voice ringing out, unwaveringly. “Please organise the soldiers to gather our wounded and dead. Dimitri included. He deserves better than to be left here in the mud.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Hubert says with a bow. When Byleth looks up again, Edelgard is looking at her with gentle concern.

"Professor? We should get you out of the cold." Byleth shakes her head. She can't feel the cold at all, can't feel anything beyond the dull ache beneath her ribs. She swallows, her tongue thick and useless against her teeth.

“I'll help them take him away," she says in a voice that sounds like it comes from far away.

"You don't have to," Edelgard says, her voice full of unbearable pity. Byleth closes her eyes.

"Please,” she asks, almost at the limit of what she can bear. Edelgard rests her gauntlet on her shoulder and everything smells fresh and bloody, like an open wound.

“Don’t push yourself, Professor. We need you. Our path isn’t over yet.” The words mean to be comforting, but Byleth can’t feel even a measure of it. When she finally opens her eyes again, she is alone.

The soldiers come and carry his body away and Byleth follows numbly. They arrive at the tent the army erected for the fallen, the scent of death and wet earth hanging heavily in the air. “Leave us,” she says after the soldiers have laid him down inside, a cloak of blue among a sea of red. Outside the tent, the world still moves. In here nothing stirs, time stopped, at least for them.

Byleth goes to kneel at his side. They have placed his head near his body, at least. She wets a cloth and begins to wipe his face clean of soil and blood, revealing skin that is already turning grey and cold. His eyes stare accusingly at her, but she can’t bear to close them yet.

"Why bother, Professor? I'm already gone.” Dimitri’s voice is older, wearied, no longer kind or gentle as when she had known him at the monastery. 

"Dimitri…" Byleth whispers, the name hushed like a prayer, "I didn't want this."

“Liar,” Dimitri utters harshly. Byleth looks up and she can see him as clear as when he lived: his piercing blue eyes, the skin beneath them dark as a bruise, the bitter twist of his mouth. “Do not act as if you cared for me now. The reason that my corpse is in front of you is because of your actions. Your choices. What did you think would happen?”

“I’m sorry,” Byleth says, though she knows it means nothing now, too little, too late. Dimitri laughs sharply in agreement.

"Rhea told me the truth of you. Of who you are. You have no idea the pain you have caused her.” Dimitri crouches by the side of his corpse to follow her gaze. He looks so real that it feels like she could reach out and touch him. There had been rumours that the spectres of his loved ones had haunted Dimitri while he lived; perhaps it is only fitting that his ghost should be by her side now.

“What did she say?” Byleth asks, already dreading it.

“Do you truly want to know?” He asks, not unkindly. “Wouldn't you rather continue on as you have been, blissfully ignorant of the truth?”

“Tell me,” she whispers, and he does. The story of the Red Canyon, the truth of the relic weapons, the story of Seiros herself. If Byleth thought she could not hurt anymore, she was wrong.

-

“The Professor is faltering.” Byleth does not mean to eavesdrop, but when she hears Hubert’s voice from outside Edelgard’s tent, she stops still. “She leads our soldiers and comrades. If she has doubts, then we need to be wary of her. If she turns…” He trails off, but Byleth can fill in the silence, knows well of his method for dealing with detractors by now.

“The last battle was challenging for all of us,” Edelgard replies. “She has been by my side all this way. I’m confident that she'll pull through.” She sounds so certain, so unshakeable; she has no idea that Byleth is filled with nothing but doubts.

“Then why have we stalled here rather than moving onto the capital that’s ripe for the taking? It has been two days.”

“We’re resting our soldiers.”

“We’re giving the enemy time to _regroup_ ,” Hubert counters. “You saw how she reacted to King Dimitri’s demise. And then there are the rumours that she talks to ghosts when she’s alone… you can’t tell me you aren’t the least bit concerned,” Hubert probes, his words prying insidiously into the cracks.

“That's enough, Hubert,” Edelgard says, sharply this time.

“I will continue to monitor the situation, Your Majesty. This close to the end, there can be no room for error,” Hubert says finally and Byleth knows she will have to watch herself even more closely from now on. The last thing she hears before she walks back the way she came is Edelgard’s sigh.

Dimitri’s footsteps don’t make a sound, but she feels him falling into step with her nevertheless. When Byleth reaches her tent, she shuts the flap tightly behind her and presses her face into her hands, shaking. The skin at the back of her neck prickles as cool air brushes against it.

“Edelgard won’t stop. Rhea won’t stop, either. They both know that neither can exist while the other does. Everyone here is fighting for something. Many of them even fight for you.” Goddess, she knows; she can barely stand under the weight of their faith in her. Byleth turns and Dimitri is standing closer than she expected, close enough that she has to crane her head to look up at him. She watches his mouth as he speaks again, soft and low, “I fought to fulfil the wishes of the dead. Many people followed me and died for it. Tell me… Professor. What do you fight for?”

“I don’t know.” It’s the first time she has admitted it aloud, even to herself. She might have known once, but not anymore, lost somewhere between the endless battles and the lies and the guilt that threatens to drown her. “What should I do? How do I… how do I end this?” She asks, desperate for anything to cling to. Dimitri shakes his head at her, his expression all too understanding.

“Do not ask that of me. If you try to fulfil my wish, you'll end up just as I did," he says, his voice trembling. “I cannot be saved by you. I'm nothing but a ghost.” For a long moment, there is nothing but the sound of her own breath. “Let me give you some advice that I was too stubborn to listen to when I was alive,” Dimitri offers finally. “Live for what you believe in. If keep your face turned away, you'll never see the truth… indelible and inescapable.” Byleth stares into his face, wishing desperately to reach for him, but she fears that her hands will find nothing but air.

“Is it too late?” Byleth asks, clenching her fists by her side instead.

“It's up to you to discover that,” Dimitri says and steps away from her. Byleth sways on her feet, almost following after him, but he is gone. 

-

Edelgard finds her later at the makeshift war table they’ve set up in the council tent. Maps and reports are spread out in front of her, but Byleth has been staring sightlessly at them for hours now. She’s looking for an answer, but none has come to her yet.

“I didn’t see you at dinner, my teacher,” Edelgard notes quietly.

“I lost track of time,” she lies. Edelgard traces a finger along the map spread on the table before coming to a stop over Fhridiad.

“We must make for the capital soon. Are you confident in your strategy?"

“Yes,” she says, “but the soldiers still need time. We can’t rush this.” She is made of lies these days. She clenches her fists and meets Edelgard’s gaze with determination. “Edelgard. You said Dimitri's vengeance was a strategy constructed by your uncle. What did you mean by that?” Byleth asks. Edelgard raises an eyebrow at the question, but doesn’t evade it.

“My uncle was involved in the Tragedy of Duscar, the incident which took the lives of Dimitri's family and led to the genocide of the Duscar people. It was done to destabilize the Kingdom, to give the Empire the advantage in this war.” she answers. Her tone is dispassionate like it happened to someone else.

“How long have you known?” Byleth asks.

“Since our time at the Academy.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I didn't want to burden you with the knowledge. Those events are long past and there's no reason that you should carry that now.” Byleth knows Edelgard thinks she is being kind, but it doesn’t feel kind, it feels like a knife being twisted inside her. Blissfully ignorant, she thinks, just as Dimitri had said.

“What else haven't you told me?” Byleth asks, low and fierce. “What else has been sacrificed for this, Edelgard?” Her friend blinks at her tone; Byleth has never spoken to her in anger before.

“I have been as open as I can with you about all of it,” Edelgard insists. “Sacrifice is necessary for this world to be set to rights and I would do it all again to arrive at this point with you.” Her resolve used to comfort Byleth, but now it simply makes her feel hopeless and tired.

“Why do you continue to work with them, despite all that they've done?” Byleth asks finally.

“We have a common enemy in the Church. I've no love for them, but I need their assistance if we are to fight Rhea.” Edelgard reaches out and clasps her hand in a gentle grip. “I promise you, I intend to make them pay for their crimes once the war is over. You have my word.” Her face is earnest and clear of deceit, which is worse, somehow. Byleth nods mutely, and at least for Edelgard, it seems like it is enough.

When they part ways, Byleth walks and keeps walking, avoiding everyone's eyes lest they read the conflict in her face. At the edge of the camp, the wind blows icy and cold. Byleth stares at the walled city in the distance until her eyes sting and burn.

“Have you decided?” Dimitri asks, his words clear and close despite the howling wind.

“I have to stop her. Somehow.” The knowledge presses on her, heavy and inescapable.

“You can’t do this alone." Byleth slants him a look and a harsh sound splits the air; Dimitri’s laugh. “I do _not_ count.”

Byleth talks to Alois and Leonie first, trusting that they will stand by her no matter what. She stalls the march on Fhridiad, citing every reason she can think of, all the while finding allies amongst her former students and associates, ones who share her doubts in Edelgard’s cause. Byleth spends her nights awake, her hand on her sword, waiting for assassins or the secret guard. Though she knows what she must do, each step she takes towards the outcome feels bitter and sour in her bones; Byleth will never forgive herself for this.

Eventually, it comes to a head in the way it should have ended months ago, if only she had the courage. Edelgard kneels before her, Aymr knocked out of her reach during their fight. Byleth lifts The Sword of the Creator until it points at her friend’s pale throat.

“Yield,” she says. It falls short of a command, sounds more like a plea. Edelgard smiles, sad and knowing.

“You know me too well to ask that, my teacher,” she replies.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Byleth grits out, her words painful and raw. Edelgard’s violet eyes are steady and clear, her expression resolved as it has always been.

“I had hoped you would stay by my side, my teacher. I wanted to walk with you until the very end. I had hoped-” The dagger flies from Edelgard’s hand and Byleth’s body moves without a thought. Her sword strikes deadly and true. She doesn’t move for a long moment. Byleth doesn’t know if Edelgard meant to kill her or if the dagger was simply a gesture to force her hand. She doesn’t _know_.

“It is done, Professor,” Dimitri says, softly. His hand reaches out to hers, almost a touch. Byleth walks back alone, carrying the body of the dear friend she has killed with her.

-

The war doesn’t end with Edelgard’s death, of course. Months are spent dealing with her closest allies, and then Arundel and Those Who Slither in the Dark. At the end of it, Rhea and the Church still stand in Fhirdiad, but they make no moves against them yet. An entire problem in itself to deal with.

Now Byleth stands at the grave of her parents, alone with her thoughts. When Dimitri appears he looks as he ever has, pale and weary, but she is happy to see him nonetheless. He has been by her side through all of it, always reminding her why she continues to fight, even when the darkness she carries grows heavier than she can stand.

“The war is over now, more or less. What will you do, Professor?” Dimitri asks, watching her face carefully.

“I must atone for the lives I've taken and ruined.” Byleth stares at her hands; her wound healed months ago, but they haven’t stopped trembling regardless. “I can’t forget my part in all of this. Even so, I want to help the people of Fodlan. This time with an open hand, not a weapon.”

“You can. If anyone could guide the people to a better future, it's you.” Dimitri smiles a little then and it transforms his face, chasing away all the shadows and weariness. Goddess, he looks so young.

“Thank you, Dimitri." She wants to say more than that, but she can’t seem to find the words. Silence falls between them. Dimitri sighs, and the smile on his face becomes bittersweet.

“Professor," he begins, haltingly, "the reason that I'm still here… this is your doing, isn't it?” At her stricken silence, he asks, gently, “why haven't you let me rest yet?” Byleth knows it's the only explanation, has known for some time. The power of the progenitor goddess dwells within her still and she has used that power to keep him by her side, even in death. Her eyes burn and sting as she forces her voice to work.

“Because I miss you,” she whispers finally, barely audible. “So much. If it hadn’t been for you, I might have never turned back from the path I was walking. I would have walked it straight into hell. Dimitri… you _saved_ me.”

“Professor.” He pauses. “Byleth… you have to let me go," he says softly. "It's better this way. For the both of us." The tears well up now, blurring her vision.

"I know." She doesn't want to. She doesn't want to let him become a memory that fades away until she forgets the shape of his face. And yet she knows that she has been selfish enough to hold him this long. Byleth breathes deeply, gathering her resolve. "Rest now, Dimitri. You deserve that."

"Thank you, Byleth." Dimitri reaches out and his fingertips brush her face like a cold brush of air. “If the Goddess graces me with another chance to live my life, I pray that I can be by your side again.”

“We will see each other again, Dimitri. I swear it,” she says, and seals the vow with everything she has. Byleth holds the image of his smile in her mind and lets a pulse of divine power shudder through her chest. When the ripples of it fade, she is alone. The tears flow fast and thick, and her sobs shake through her chest. Above her, the sky opens and cries with her.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: [@redmorningstar1](https://twitter.com/redmorningstar1)


End file.
